


Everybody Must Have A Dream

by vsawyer2734



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Attorney, Cute, Dani Powell is a Good Friend, F/M, Fluffy, Good Parent Gil Arroyo, Good Parent Jessica Whitly, Law, Lots of plot, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Martin Whitly Being an Asshole, POV Third Person Omniscient, PTSD, Porn With Plot, Slow Updates, good mother daughter relationship, more tags, strong female character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vsawyer2734/pseuds/vsawyer2734
Summary: Victoria Westergaard is an impressive defense attorney in the cutthroat world of New York law. An old friend of her mother's, Gil Arroyo, calls on her to defend Malcolm Bright in a personal suit, despite that not being her area of expertise. Victoria and Malcolm hit it off, and she becomes almost a second consultant for him, and something more.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & Edrisa Tanaka, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Original Character(s), Malcolm Bright/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Lawsuit? Mine's At The Dry-Cleaner's

**Author's Note:**

> hi folks please be patient this will have slow updates but they will be good... probably. oc is norwegian, so some words will be in Old Norse. translations will be in the notes before each chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria meets her client and learns a little bit about the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited for formatting and commas
> 
> móðir = mother
> 
> dóttir = daughter

  
  


She was late. 

It was an unusual occurrence, and she knew she would get flack from her ever-perfect mother about it. Freyja Trygg did not raise a daughter that was late. This is what happens when you work for your mother.

Victoria Westergaard was an attorney. A damn good one at that, specializing in criminal defense, although she had some experience in prosecution as well. Of course, she was not as well-known as her mother is- a named partner in the prestigious firm Whitman, Caden, & Trygg. Her mother had clawed her way to the top, and would probably die in her office in the middle of a case. It was just the kind of person she is, and Victoria aspired to be like that one day. Not the dying part, just the being at the top part.

The elevator ride up through the skyscraper seemed to drag on, prolonging the inevitable. It was just making her later and later, and definitely in for more and more of a lecture. Finally, after the conclusion of some piano cover, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

“Ooh, someone’s  _ late _ . How is mother dearest going to feel when you weren’t early for the first time since… ever? She might even fire you.” Rory Allbright teased as Victoria stepped out of the elevator. 

“Ror, keep your voice down. There’s a slight chance she hasn’t noticed-” Victoria hissed, a mischievous grin on her face, but she had spoken too soon. As the pair rounded the corner, she saw her mother sitting in her desk chair, pouring over the reports on her desk.

“Good luck.” Rory smiled, before ducking into their own office while Victoria stuck her tongue out at their retreating form. She made a point of banging open the glass door and acting surprised.

“Móðir! So nice to see you this morning.” Victoria greeted, setting down her briefcase and bag, “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t give me that tone, dóttir. Why are you late?” Freyja responded, looking at her daughter over thin reading glasses.

“Does it matter?” Victoria responded, shrugging off the blazer that matched her pencil skirt. “What are you doing in my office this early? The meeting with the update about the Raverson case wasn’t scheduled until 11:30,” she said, reaching into her bag and finding the appointment book, flipping through the pages to today’s date.

“Something has come up. Get a notepad and a pen and come with me to the conference room. And please, put back on your coat. We are meeting with a potential client.” She replied, snapping the file shut and placing it back into the shallow bin she got it from. Victoria raised an eyebrow.

“Who?” She asked, getting out a legal pad and a pen, reaching to shrug back on the blazer, making sure her hair was presentable.

“You’ll see,” Freyja replied cryptically. All it left Victoria with was more and more questions.

The pair walked to the most luxurious of the several conference rooms, and Victoria immediately knew that her mother was trying to impress someone. The room was nicknamed the “Murder Room” by some of the staff, named for the people who came through its doors, and the crimes they committed.  _ No matter _ , Victoria thought.  _ As long as I don’t have anything in my teeth. _

The doors swung open. There were two men inside who stood upon the arrival of the mother-daughter duo. Judging by their body language, Victoria inferred that they were going to be defending the younger of the two men for whatever had occurred. 

“Hi, Gil,” Freyja said, embracing the older man in a warm hug. Victoria was a little startled at the sudden physical contact, but she didn’t let it show on her face. Her mother rarely hugged anyone. Instead of dwelling on how weird it was, Victoria placed her notepad and pen on the dark oak table. Her mother turned to her expectantly. “This is my daughter Victoria Westergaard. Victoria, this is Gil Arroyo and Malcolm Bright. You would be representing Mr. Bright if we took on this case.” Freyja explained, but the last phrase was said in a teasing manner toward Gil. It held the air of how someone would tease an old friend, or maybe an old flame.

“Freyja, I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this,” Gil replied, gesturing to the plush seats. They all sat down, and Victoria immediately got down to business.

“So, Mr. Bright-” She began, clicking her pen and arranging the legal pad, but he cut her off.

“Malcolm, please.” He replied, a small smile on his face. 

Victoria smiled in return. “Malcolm, what happened? And please remember, nothing you say will leave this room thanks to attorney-client privilege.”

Malcolm gave a short laugh while she unbuttoned my blazer and shifted her weight in the seat under his gaze. “I am very familiar with attorney-client privilege.” 

_ What an odd thing to say. _ Victoria thought, a small smile gracing her face before she wiped it clean again. It was unprofessional to laugh at the plights of the clientele, no matter how funny it might be. Neither of the men spoke, but they looked at each other for a moment. Victoria shifted her gaze from Malcolm to the other man in the room, hoping he would provide an answer.

“He chopped off a guy’s hand with an ax,” Gil said bluntly. Victoria knew this man wasn’t bullshitting her. She took some notes and looked up expectantly for the rest of the story. People came into the Murder Room with more than assault, otherwise it wouldn’t have earned its’ name. 

“And…?” Victoria asked, prompting them to go on. Malcolm looked at her quizzically. They sat in silence for a moment longer before he took the hint.

“That’s it.”

Victoria and Freyja were both surprised, but Victoria is the one who showed it on her face.

“You were expecting something… worse?” Malcolm asked, perplexed by the response from the legal team that Gil had insisted on. 

“I take it they are pressing charges, then?” Victoria asked, writing some more things down. Gil and Malcolm nodded slightly, while Malcolm rolled his eyes.

“He’s suing me, personally. He already settled with the NYPD, but I assume he feels he hasn’t punished me enough.” Malcolm replied, looking over at the other man when he mentioned the NYPD.  _ Odd, unless Gil is a cop.  _ However, it was practically unheard of for cops and defense attorneys to be buddy-buddy because the attorney’s sole goal is to prove the cops incompetent. 

“It sounds like you’ll need a civil suit attorney then, not a defense attorney. I am more than happy to recommend some extremely capable firms-” Victoria began, when Gil cut her off.

“Ms. Westergaard, I know you are more experienced with criminal defense, but you’re remarkably good at it, and your mother says you’re the best man for the job.” He replied, looking at Freyja who looked at her daughter with expectant eyes. It was the look that simultaneously said “don’t embarrass me” and “yes, honey, I’m proud.”

“Well then,” Victoria began, standing up. “Malcolm, shall we continue this in my office? It would be easier to construct a case of this magnitude.” The pair of men and Freyja stood as well.

“Lead the way, Ms. Westergaard.” He replied, buttoning his blazer. It was a nice suit. Italian, probably custom made. Malcolm Bright reeked of money, which made his coming to Whitman, Caden, and Trygg for just a civil suit make even more sense.

“If I can call you Malcolm, then you can call me Victoria.” She replied, opening the door and leading the surprising not-murderer out of the Murder Room.

“Gil, I’ll meet you back at the precinct when I finish here for the day?” Malcolm asked as he nodded.  _ Precinct? _ Victoria thought.  _ Gil’s definitely a cop then. _

Gil shook Victoria’s hand warmly, and then let her mother walk him out. Victoria led Malcolm to her office, gesturing at one of the seats on the other side of the desk, while she sat at the desk.

“To have you part with as little money as possible, I need to know the whole story. Start from the beginning please, and everything you tell me will be able to help you.”

  
  



	2. Reattachment Surgery Has Come A Long Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair dive into the case, as well as a little bit of Victoria's personal life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited for formatting and commas
> 
> odð = odd

\

“It was my first case with the NYPD, after being fired from the FBI.” Malcolm said plainly. 

Victoria paused. “Would the circumstances of your termination play a defining role in your reasoning at the time of the incident?” 

Malcolm’s right hand shook a little bit before he clenched it into a tight fist. 

“If you need to take a break at any point, let me know. This must have been a traumatic experience, and bringing these up can trigger painful memories.” Victoria said, looking empathetically at the man across the desk from her. “Reliving days like that one can be extremely hard for people to cope with, and it doesn’t help that someone is with you and poking holes in your story at every turn.”

Malcolm gave a short laugh again. “I’m fine. To answer your question, yes. I was terminated under, shall we say, iffy circumstances. But I wasn’t thinking about my then-termination at the time of the incident.” 

Victoria nodded, writing some more things down. “So what exactly warranted you to chop off a man’s hand?” 

Malcolm grimaced. “There was no other way, and reattachment surgery has come a long way.”

Victoria grinned, writing down “hero complex” under her assessment of the case. She gestured for him to continue. 

“He was handcuffed to a chair that was bolted to the floor. It had a bomb underneath it that was going to explode in 70 seconds. So it was either painting his ceiling with brains and body parts or chopping off his hand and getting him out alive. I wouldn’t have done it if there were another way.” Malcolm continued, his facial expression becoming exasperated, pained even.

Victoria paused. “So then what is he suing you, personally, for? It sounds to me like any reasonable human would have made the same decisions that you did.”

Malcolm grinned, “First time a lawyer has called me reasonable for my actions.” 

Victoria gave a short giggle, covering it with a cough, “Do you have anything else to tell me? What about the medical bills for the reattachment?”

“My mother paid for them all.” 

Odd. But, then again, guys like him don’t have any real money of their own, just what they inherit. Victoria wrote some more things down. The gentle scratching of her fountain pen against the paper was the only sound in the room. 

“Has he tried to contact you in any way? Through another attorney or otherwise?” Victoria questioned again.

“No, not that I am aware of.” Malcolm replied. 

“When was the other settlement reached?”

“Three months ago.” 

Odð. “And do you know how much the settlement was for?”

“Just around two million, I think. I can get you the official records if you’d like.” Malcolm replied, noticing the furrow of Victoria’s brow as she scrawled more along the paper.

“We can get them ourselves. Now, when he began filing the paperwork to sue you, how were you notified?”

“Gil told me. I don’t know how he found out.” 

“No problem, I can dig it up. I just didn’t know if you already knew.” 

“Like I said, I haven’t had any contact with the guy since the incident.” 

“When, exactly did this event occur?”

“Around nine months ago, maybe a year? I can look at an incident report-”

Victoria waved him off. “I’m just getting preliminary information for now. Relax, Malcolm, it’s not a test.” He laughed, and the skin around her eyes crinkled with mirth.

“Sure,” Malcolm replied, as Victoria continued writing down some of the things she was observing. He looked at her hands.

She wore three rings; one of an intricate silver braid, another a silver olive branch wrapping delicately around, and the third, on her left hand, was beaded silver encasing a small amber stone.

“Lawyers don’t usually wear rings,” Malcolm said, eyes taking in the rest of her clothing and jewelry choices. 

Victoria laughed, looking down at her hands and running her thumb along the intricate braid. “You did say that you had a lot of experience with attorneys.” She didn’t miss his clear once over, pausing at the appropriate places, but not for very long. He was a gentleman, albeit not subtle.

Malcolm laughed nervously. “I apologize, I didn't mean to pry.”

Victoria waved him off, the sleeve of her blazer revealing more silver jewelry. “Silver was a very valuable commodity in Norway where my family is originally from. The silversmiths took great care and detail in the things they created, thus explaining the intricacy. It became a tradition to hand down these pieces of craftsmanship to children and other loved ones.” She paused, suddenly flooded with the memory of her father handing her the bracelet she never took off. All she could see was his warm smile, and she practically felt his arms around her. Victoria was overwhelmed with a sense of loss, and it was all she could do not to cry.

She took a deep breath and shrugged off the blazer and rolled up her cuff to take off the silver bracelet. “If you want to be impressed, ask my mother about it. She’ll start speaking in old tongues, and talk your ear off.”

“So they all mean something different?” Malcolm asked, taking the cuff from the attorney. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the silver, a stark contrast against his cold hands.

“Yes. Those runes there. That’s my name.” He ran his thumb over the engraving, looking back up at Victoria.

“Beautiful.”

A faint blush crept up her neck and dusted her cheeks. It was hard to tell whether he was talking about her or the jewelry. Victoria snapped back on the silver cuff and rolled down her shirt sleeve, trying to fasten it with no avail.

Malcolm’s nimble fingers came forward. “Let me,” he insisted, fastening the tricky button. Victoria’s pulse was fluttering like a butterfly in a cage.

“Thank you,” Victoria said earnestly. A silence settled over the pair, neither of them knowing what to say next.

Malcolm cleared his throat, his hand reaching for the back of his neck. 

“I’ll call you within the next few days with an update. If you get contacted by the plaintiff, let me know right away,” Victoria said, extending her hand for a shake. Malcolm nodded, taking another moment to observe the powerful attorney before him. “Let me walk you out,” she said, pulling open the heavy glass door. 

“Thank you, Victoria,” Malcolm replied. She could tell that he really meant it.


End file.
